


Gulls N' Roses

by almaasi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Arcades, Autistic Castiel, Dean Loves Pie, Ficlet, First Kiss, Fluff, Ghost Hunters, Gift Exchange, Holding Hands, Illustrated, M/M, Misunderstandings, No Plot/Plotless, Oneshot, Romance, Roses, Seaside, Storms, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 08:19:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14807705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi
Summary: While mid-hunt, Dean gives Cas a red rose. Interpreting the gift as a gesture of true love, Cas decides to give Dean something very special in return.





	Gulls N' Roses

**Author's Note:**

> Gulls N' Roses... You know, like Guns N' Roses, but with seagulls?? Eh, you'll get it in a minute.
> 
> Beta'd by Amara, Libby, and Mittens!

  
 

Dean supposed this ought to feel spooky. Anyone _else_ would’ve found it spooky.

The tide was in, the dark grey sky rumbled with thunder, and the fairground at the end of the pier had been left deserted. Everyone who worked here had seen ghosts and scarpered.

It was... kinda nice, though? Dean kicked along with his hands in his pockets, a small smile on his face. The sea breeze was pleasantly warm, sweeping up from the south. Sure, it smelled briny, but Dean was a sucker for salted caramel, and there were definitely whiffs of caramel apples on the wind.

Maybe it just felt good ‘cause Cas was here. He had his hands in his coat pockets too, and a delicate little frown between his eyebrows. He looked carefully at the screeching seagulls perched on the roof of the ticket booth, then he looked at the arcade stand, where jaunty music still played, lights still flashing, Generic-Advertising-Man’s recorded voice blaring incoherently through the open doors. Particles of trash drifted past, flipped over by the breeze.

“Maybe the ghosts left,” Castiel said. He looked around a bit more, then looked at Dean.

“Guess so,” Dean said, carrying on his stroll. “Maybe Sammy’ll find some ectoplasm or some floating teddy-bear prizes, who knows.”

They passed a donut stall, which was making enough gurgling noises that Dean realised the fryer was still bubbling. Not haunted, just abandoned in a rush.

They passed a balloon stand with no balloons left. Just one sad, saggy metallic shape lying over the stand’s frame, which might once have been a pink elephant. A seagull perched on the stand made eye contact with Dean, then spread its massive grey wings and took off. Dean ducked as the thing swept two feet over his head.

They came to a flower seller’s stand, with white buckets lined up, staggered like theatre seats. The flowers in the buckets hung about without a care – sprays of orchids nestled right next to a conference of carnations and a tumbling of tulips, all different colours. But something drew Dean’s eye as they walked past, visually striking enough that he stopped in his tracks.

A bucket of perfect, red roses.

He bent down, one boot lifting from the pier; he slid a single rose out from its bucket, its green-leafed base cupped between two fingers as he straightened.

“Dean—” Castiel had realised Dean wasn’t beside him, and now returned to Dean’s side. “What did you find?”

“Uhhh, Indiana Jones’ hat,” Dean said bluntly, showing Cas the rose, with its plush velvet petals and pouting centre. Castiel squinted.

Dean snorted, grinning, “Jeez, Cas, what does it look like? Here, it’s for you.” He shoved the rose against Castiel’s chest, pushing past him, letting go only when he felt Castiel’s hand fumble for the pokey stem. “Come on, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Sammy’s probably almost done with his half of the pier by now.”

Dean had put several feet of distance between them before he realised Cas wasn’t following.

Dean turned. “Hey. You coming?”

Castiel was still looking at the rose. He lifted it to his nose and sniffed it.

Wow. Of all the things that Dean expected to be shocked by today, this was not one of them. Cas sticking his nose in a flower, and _smiling_ about it? Nope. That wasn’t on the list.

Dean made a point of shutting his mouth. He pressed his lips together and turned away, but when he brushed his hand across a sudden, completely random itch on his cheek, he felt his skin burning.

Okay, _that_ was spooky. Totally unexplainable. Probably ghosts.

Ghosts that made him feel _hot_ and _flustered_ instead of _cold_...?

Forcing a gruff noise out of himself, Dean scowled and called to Castiel, “C’mon, buddy, we’re wasting daylight.”

“What— Oh, of course, Dean,” Castiel said softly. “I’m right behind you.” He took a few steps, finally touching his shoulder to Dean’s so they could move on.

He was still sniffing his rose. And _smiling_.

   
**~ ♥ ~**  
 

“I’ll catch up with you in one second, Sammy,” Dean said, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “Just gotta find Cas, he wandered off muttering something about a donut vendor. He said the ghosts left already, and I think I’m with him on this one – the place seems pretty un-haunted to me. Maybe it’s insurance fraud, and some special-effects-savvy accountant in a mask. You go search the main office, see what clues you can dig up.”

Sam snorted. “Okay, _Fred_. Who made you boss?”

Dean made a disparaging noise over his shoulder. “Rude! Velma!”

Sam just grinned, wafting a hand dismissively before he jogged off. Sea spray surged up, hit the pier and covered him, but Sam didn’t seem to mind. He shook the water out of his long hair and carried on.

“Gross,” Dean said, shoving his fists into the pockets of his leather jacket, turning his back on the sea. He was staying where the seaweed couldn’t get him.

He breathed deeply as he searched the immediate area for Cas, wondering if it would be wrong to pinch some abandoned donut balls if nobody was around to sell them to him.

“Cas,” he called, finding the angel facing a snack kiosk. “ _There_ you are.” Cas stood with his shoulders tense, hands flat on the kiosk desk. He still held the red rose in one hand.

As Dean approached, he heard Castiel speaking to someone inside. “You don’t understand,” he growled. “I _need_ pie.”

“I said, we’re _closed_ ,” the vendor said, and yanked a screen down between themselves and Castiel, slamming it, then locking it tight.

Castiel huffed in frustration, turning away. His scowl evaporated as he saw Dean.

“Hey,” Dean said, standing close. “What... What’s going on?”

“He won’t sell me pie,” Castiel said sadly.

“The hell do you need pie for?” Dean started to grin. “You finally getting the appeal? Aw, yesss, I knew you would eventually.” He leaned in and butted Castiel’s side with his elbow. “Welcome to the club.”

“It’s not for me, it’s for you,” Castiel said, eyebrows drawn together as he stormed off.

“Whoa, hey,” Dean said, trotting after his friend. “What do _I_ need pie for? Or – maybe the better question is, how did you know I was craving somethin’ sweet?”

Castiel stopped dead, and Dean overshot him by a step before dropping back to his side. “It’s for a gift,” Castiel said, lifting his rose. “You gave me this, and I believe it’s human courtesy to return the favour when someone gives a gift.”

Dean’s mouth slid open. “Uhhh.” He blinked. “O...kay?”

Castiel sniffed his rose again and smiled, for maybe the fifteenth time in half an hour. His eyes remained set on the thick bud, gazing at it adoringly, like its existence was precious and wonderful and unbelievable.

“Damn, Cas, it’s just a flower,” Dean muttered, smiling helplessly as he angled his chin away, embarrassed. “It’s not a big deal. It’s been out on this pier since the morning, it’s probably dirty and bruised anyway.”

Castiel looked curiously at Dean. “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

“Excuse me?”

“It is what it is,” Castiel said, holding Dean’s eye. “It was a gift, from _you_ , and I don’t care what state it’s in. It’s beautiful, and I appreciate it.”

Dean imagined little pink anime stripes were appearing on his cheeks right about now. He couldn’t even respond, he didn’t know how. His brain was all staticy.

“I wanted to get you pie,” Castiel said, eyes downturned. “But I failed.” He reached into his trenchcoat pocket and pulled out a black stone, smoothed by the sea. “This rock is three billion years old, it’s worth at least its weight in gold. In fact, it has gold _in_ it. But for some reason the pie vendor won’t accept it as payment.”

He seemed genuinely perplexed about that.

Dean stirred from his frozen position, shoulders sinking down, hands escaping his pockets and curling into fists before relaxing. He swiped his salty lips with his weirdly warm tongue, and pushed out a breath, which soon formed into words...

“You tried to pay for pie – with a _rock_?”

Castiel met his eyes. “It’s a very special rock.”

A smirk inched up one side of Dean’s face. “Yeah. No kidding.”

“Anyway, the point is there’s no pie, and I have no gift for you. I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel gazed at Dean with sorrow softening the lines below his eyes, gleaming across his galaxy-blue stare.

Dean parted his lips, wetting them again. “Y... You know you don’t have to _buy_ gifts, right?”

Castiel looked at his rose, then back at Dean. “Can I steal the pie, like you stole the rose?”

“What— No, that’s not what I—” Dean bowed his head, lips together, bumping a fist up and down in front of him as he tried to reel in a coherent sentence. “Look,” he said eventually, gazing fondly at Cas, “Gifts can be simple. Don’t have to cost anything. You know? You can write a note, orrr... give something you have on you already, or... make something? Or do something special, like a favour. A show of gratitude through... gesture.” Dean twirled his hands forward, then stopped, realising the gesture was unexpressive and Cas didn’t get it.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, don’t worry about it,” he said, shaking his head. “You like the rose, so it’s fine. I’m happy enough with that. I don’t need anything in return.” He dropped his hand, pocketing both his fists. He shrugged. “Let’s just go, Sam’s ransacking the head office by himself. For all we know he’s reordering their filing cabinets while he’s at it.” Dean turned his back on Cas, ready to move on.

But Castiel hurried after him, taking his inner elbow and rotating him on the spot.

Voice low and determined, Castiel declared, “I know what I want to give you.”

“You do?”

Castiel eyed his rose, pondering it. “Red roses are a symbol of... true love.”

“They are?”

Dean didn’t know why he asked that. Of course he knew. It hadn’t been on _purpose_ , but somehow he’d picked a rose instinctively.

“Yes, they are.” Castiel’s eyes were bright, and he stood tall and proud, eyeing Dean with no small amount of smugness. “I know _exactly_ what you want.”

“You do?”

That one was a serious question. Dean really, really hoped he and Cas were on the same page, here.

Castiel stepped close – _too_ close – and Dean realised they were on _very_ different pages. Different books. Different _libraries_.

Dean’s heart was hammering against his ribs by now but he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Or maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe his legs locked up and his heart soared and his temperature doubled as Castiel leaned in close, because he’d realised what was coming and it wasn’t worth the effort to correct Cas’ assumptions.

This was not what he’d expected.

But maybe he wanted it anyway.

Yeah, he wanted it.

Castiel pressed his chest against Dean’s, his exhale warm on Dean’s seasalt-sticky cheek. Dean noticed Castiel close his eyes – and Dean did too, reflexively, as he felt the _press_ of Castiel’s lips on the side of his mouth.

Dean opened his mouth, just a little. He closed it. Okay, that was a kiss. An... accidental one.

Dean did it again.

He took Castiel by the lapel of his coat and tilted his head, sighing as Castiel wrapped two warm, steady hands against Dean’s neck, holding him as they embraced. Lip to lip. Nudging. _Smooching_.

Really, there was no other, less squishy word for it. They were smooching. Definitely.

Dean felt his knees go weak. Like, honestly, he felt kinda wobbly on his feet. Lumberjack-tread boots, set flat on rough pier wood, and he felt like he was gonna _fall over_. A hard gush of sea spray thumped the pier, and Dean actually imagined the world rocked for a moment. The spray hissed down over him, and it took him a few moments to realise the new tingles on his skin were different tingles to before.

Castiel exhaled, dragging his lips closed one more time. He pulled away smiling, both his hands cradling Dean’s face. Castiel peered at Dean’s dazed expression, as if fully aware how blitzed a frail human body could become when kissed like _that_ , especially when the kiss was unexpected. Cas was gentle and slow as he let go of Dean, making sure he wasn’t about to collapse.

Dean probably _would’ve_ collapsed, if Cas had pulled away any faster.

Even when Castiel stroked his hands down Dean’s chest, and then broke contact completely, Dean was still stunned.

Dean licked his lips.

Castiel raised his eyebrows, expecting feedback.

Dean licked his lips again, and rasped out, “Y-You know, Cas,” he shuddered, licking his lips one more time, reacquainting himself with their singularity, now lacking Castiel’s contact. “I would’ve taken the rock.”

Castiel tilted his head.

“I would’ve thought the rock was a neat gift,” Dean explained. “Like. You didn’t have to do that. What you did, I mean.”

“Kiss you?”

“Yeah, that.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, a slight twitch of amusement on the corner of his lips. “I believe some gifts are non-refundable. No take-backs.”

“Yeah.” Dean hid his smile under a hand. “Yeah, that’s... That’s... awesome. Wouldn’t wanna return it anyway.” He let his hand fall, and turned his face away, not willing to see himself move to sweep Castiel’s hand into his own.

“Oh,” Castiel said, as they held hands. “Okay?”

Dean smiled at the crashing sea, breathing deeply as thunder rolled over them. He still didn’t look at Cas. But they began to walk together, hand-in-hand.

Seagulls cried around them, screaming their seaside serenades. The wind moaned, the sea thrust itself against the pier’s edge, and the tinkling, taunting tunes of the fairground played on, in a way most people would find unnerving, but Dean found enthralling. This was a peaceful, happy moment for him.

It was only when Castiel said, “Dean?” that Dean turned his face to see him. Castiel smiled. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Castiel’s eyes dipped to their joined hands. They fit so snugly.

Dean couldn’t help but grin. Here he was, feeling all warm inside because his guardian angel had nice hands for holding. And nice lips for kissing. And a pretty decent handle on the concept of gratitude, too.

**{ the end! }**

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I've been meaning to do this for literal years, but at last I've put together a survey for everyone who reads my fics. I want to get some collective information on who you are, what you like, and what kind of things you want to see from me in the future.  
> It's pretty in-depth, so I made a quicker one for anyone short on time.  
> Click **[HERE](http://bit.ly/long-almaasi-survey-2018)** for the long one (20-40 minutes; would help me A LOT)  
>  Click **[HERE](http://bit.ly/short-almaasi-survey-2018)** for the short one (7-10 minutes; would help me A BIT).  
>  Thank you for being so supportive that I even have anyone to survey in the first place. I really appreciate you people and everything you've done for me, and I wanna make sure I can keep giving you what you want, too. ♥  
> Elmie x
> 
> P.S. Hope you liked the fic!!! Lots more coming soon ♥♥♥
> 
> ☆ [reblog the art!!](http://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/174421706605/gulls-n-roses-while-mid-hunt-dean-gives-cas-a)  
> ☆ [reblog this fic!!](http://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/174421836765/gulls-n-roses)  
> ☆ [reblog the links to the surveys!! (please, would be v. helpful ♥)](http://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/174422140645/a-survey-for-readers-of-destiel-fics-by-almaasi)


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